


The Replacements

by muzivitch



Category: Watchmen (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-18
Updated: 2009-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:26:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muzivitch/pseuds/muzivitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A little drabble I came up with this morning that wouldn't leave my brain.  Pretty rough.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Replacements

**Author's Note:**

> A little drabble I came up with this morning that wouldn't leave my brain. Pretty rough.

_**The Replacements | Watchmen, R.**_  
Title: The Replacements  
Author: [](http://muzivitch.livejournal.com/profile)[**muzivitch**](http://muzivitch.livejournal.com/)  
Series: Watchmen  
Pairing: Adrian/Dan, Adrian/OCs, Dan/Laurie  
Rating: R  
Length: 808 words  
Notes: A little drabble I came up with this morning that wouldn't leave my brain. Pretty rough.

Adrian Veidt meets the first in 1979. Jamie's an adorable young artist - Irish - who models on the side to make ends meet. When the modeling doesn't work out (and it seems that it seldom does despite young Jamie's beautiful eyes and lean muscles), he waits tables. That's how he meets Adrian; he's his waiter at the Four Seasons, and shortly after they first meet, after the first lovely, leisurely encounter in the back of Adrian's limosine, he quits waiting tables, and modeling, and for the most part art. Adrian is quite simply far more fascinating than oil on canvas. As he should be.

But it's not quite right. Despite those summer-blue eyes, despite that lovely way " _Adrian_ " sounds when Adrian's fucking him, Jamie doesn't quite fit. His smile is too confident, he's too golden with that brown hair shot through with blond. It's with some mild regret that Adrian lets him down gently, and walks away, already seeking the next.

  
Michael's hair is _perfect_ , Adrian thinks more than once. A little too long, a little too unruly, thick and dark. It falls into his eyes, over thick-framed glasses, and Michael pushes it out of the way with a smile that's just the right combination of bashful and flirtatious. But his eyes are too green, edging closer to turquoise than a true blue, and Michael himself is simply far too young, a mere twenty in 1982. No, Adrian thinks with an inner frown even as his hands slide over Michael's pale skin, even as he fucks him deep and hard in Michael's tiny apartment near Columbia, in the long term this one won't do at all.

But for a momentary amusement, he muses as Michael arches up, tosses his head back and screams Adrian's name, this boy will work just fine.

  
Oddly, he stays the longest with the one that physically matches his desire the least. He meets Lucas in 1983. He's a young environmentalist working with Veidt on clean energy initiatives, and his blue eyes sparkle with enthusiasm anytime they discuss the potential of wind or biofuels or hydroelectricity. But he's too...dark, Adrian thinks. Too many hours spent out in the sun have turned his skin a golden-brown. His hair is too curly, and cut too close to his head. And most of all he's too much of a...free spirit, Adrian muses with a smile as he bends him over the wide expanse of his black marble desk, pushes deep inside him to the sound of Lucas' rough gasp. But there's a certain sharp intelligence, an excitement for knowledge that's pitch-perfect and that, Adrian thinks later, is why Lucas lasts as long as he does.

Eventually, though, it's not quite enough.

  
On the surface, David's the closest. His nearly black hair flops into his eyes in slightly messy waves, his blue eyes, hidden by a pair of tortoiseshell glasses, are brilliant and incisive and just the right shade. David is keenly intelligent - a lawyer for the oil and nuclear energy consortium whose arguments are compelling enough to make Adrian give them far more concessions than he'd ever intended. And afterward, when he fucks him against the heavy glass of his office's windows, David's gasps and moans that edge towards desperation are nearly flawless.

That's all surface, though. David is far too cynical, and far too audacious to really be a good fit. He's a shark when it comes down to it, and while that's a quality Adrian appreciates, it's not...right. This one won't last long, Adrian muses as he opens the _New York Daily News_ and flips through the pages. But for a temporary thing, it should be fulfilling enough.

"Who do we look like?" David asks from across the table, and Adrian glances up, startled - not at the question, necessarily, but at the idea that David would dare even _ask_ it. He lifts his eyebrows over amused hazel eyes.

"Pardon me?" he says. "I'm not following you."

David smiles as he reknots his red silk tie and slips the jacket of his pinstriped suit back on. "Your lovers," he says, "all have dark hair and blue eyes. Most of them wear glasses. Almost all of them are considered extremely intelligent. It's fairly obvious, Adrian."

Adrian considers, for a moment, simply ignoring David or cutting him down with a brief phrase - it would be easy, he thinks, and he knows just what words to use. But then he glances down, his eyes caught by a wedding announcement and the accompanying picture. The woman has long, sleek dark hair with blunt-cut bangs and a brilliant smile. Her new husband's smile is shier, he thinks, but more beautiful for it. He has lake-blue eyes covered in thick glasses, and his usual unruly waves have been tamed for the picture. He smiles. He hopes they'll be happy.

Adrian looks up at David, still smiling. "Someone I knew once," he murmurs.

He turns the page.


End file.
